Someone Knows Something - S3 Episode 4: Bunkley

Episode Date: November 6, 2017

David and Thomas search for MHSP officers and FBI agents who were present during Seale and Edwards's arrests. And Thomas looks for the support of the local community as he plans to confront the Klansmen in person. For transcripts of this series, please visit: https://www.cbc.ca/radio/sks/season3/someone-knows-something-season-3-dee-moor-transcripts-listen-1.4360239

Are you sure you parked over here? Do you see it anywhere? I think it's back this way. Come on. Hey, you're going the wrong way. Feeling distracted? You're not alone. Whether renting, considering buying a home, or renewing a mortgage, many Canadians are finding it hard to focus with housing costs on their minds. For free tools and resources to help you manage your home finances and clear your head,

visit Canada.ca slash ItPaysToKnow. A message from the Government of Canada. This is a CBC Podcast. Say something. What? Can you say something to me? Test 1 and 2. Test 1 and 2. Okay, now do you have the mic?

Yeah. Give it to me, I'm going to stick it on. Hello, check, check, check. Hello, check, check. Mr. Edwards, check, check, check. Mr. Edwards, check, check, check. Mr. Edwards, check. How the hell am I going to turn around? How are you, sir?

How are you? I'm okay. I'm Dave. I'm down here working on a documentary. I'm here with the brother of Charles Moore. Oh, you can get through. Go get that in your car now. He just wants to talk. Get off of my place.

Go. I'm sorry, sir. He just wants to talk. You're listening to Someone Knows Something from CBC Original Podcasts. In Season 3, David Ridgen revisits his 2007 documentary, Mississippi Cold Case. Teaming up with Thomas Moore to investigate the murders of his brother, Charles Moore, and Henry Dee, two 19-year-olds who were killed by the Ku Klux Klan in 1964. This is Episode 4, Bunkley. Now you talk about terror.

I think you talk about terror. I think you talk about terror. People have been terrorized. All my days. All my days. Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans and area in August 2005. Thomas and I had already returned to our respective homes and continued to work on the D. Moore case from afar. The catastrophe kept the news of Seal's existence out of play for a month, and over the next several,

I was able to get through the entire set of FBI files Jerry Mitchell had given us and find many more documents, photos and media clips, in other U.S. archives. Where's that one that talks about Jolie Rawlins? I made notes on most every page and created a comprehensive database of names and stories the FBI heard that I wanted to re-examine. Thomas and I spoke every day on the phone, sometimes more than once, and we also both kept in close touch with U.S. Attorney Dunn-Lampton and others. David?

Hi, David. Hi, Mr. Lampton. How are you doing? Fine. What you got? Still, top of our minds were James Ford Seal and Charles Marcus Edwards. James Ford Seal was well-known along with his family for violence in the region and was a suspect in several crimes, including the dynamiting of the Blue Flame Saloon in Bude, for assisting in the murder of a white man named Earl Hodges in summer of 65, and for running over and killing a black man named Bailey O'Dell with his truck on the Bunkley Road in the summer of 1966.

Seal was also known for threatening people, including one of his neighbors for having a black maid. Seal and his fellow Klansmen would come together often in the Bunkley community, meeting at a property owned by a man named Archie Prather. Their meetings were supposedly part of the Bunkley Hunting Club, or a Rod and Gun Club, a euphemism for Klan Clavern. Charles Marcus Edwards was seemingly a workaday paper mill employee with a short military career, a wife named Penny, and two young sons back in 1964. However, Edwards moved from his home in the Kirby community on May 3rd, 1964, the day after D'Anmour disappeared from Meadville. With new information in hand, we returned south again in March 2006, the next trip of many I would make south almost always with Thomas.

This time, we would try approaching Edwards at his home, deep in the backwoods of Franklin County, to see if he would talk to Thomas. Time for a drive down Bunkley Road. This place has deteriorated terribly in the last 40 years, so what you see is a measuring stick. How far have we really gone? Bunkley was the Klan stronghold in Franklin County at the time, and many of the most violent members lived here. But times changed, and the white community over the years had sold off or

abandoned their former properties. As we drove the roughly 12 miles to Edward's house, I saw barking dogs and shanty shacks, cleared grassy spaces where farms would have been, all covered in a drifting brimstone of smoke from controlled burns in the surrounding Homochito Pine woods. It had just started to rain as I drove up. I approached Edward's house trying to calm his black and white dog. Edwards himself rose from a swing chair under a porch. He was a robust-looking man in his 70s with a salt-and-pepper mustache and big glasses, dressed in a grey sweatsuit with a camouflage patterned hunting cap.

He just wants to talk. I'm sorry, sir, he just wants to talk. I don't want to talk about that. I'm not guilty of that, and I've had enough of it. Get in your car and get away from me. He wasn't guilty of that, he says. I'm sure Mr. Moore would just like a few words. I'm not having nothing to do with this, and I want you to get off my land. Okay. Sorry, sir. Thank you, sir. We had planned that Thomas, who was back in the van, would accompany me.

But when I returned to the vehicle with Edward's barky dog in fixed pursuit of my heels, I found Thomas crouching on the floor. The way the van was situated, I had to make a several-point turn at the end of Edward's dead-end country road and drive past him again. As we went by, I noticed Edwards was holding a crowbar and hitting the side of an old shack at the foot of his property with it. Duck when we go by here. Stay down.

I feel bad. You'll die with the tongue of a man, dude. I'm not leaving here without seeing that guy. That's for sure. Couldn't have asked for better. He was sitting on his porch. I knew Thomas was angry with himself and I could barely bring myself to talk to him about it. Later, months later, Thomas would admit to me that he'd felt like a failure for not confronting Edwards. When the moment came, he was struck by an overwhelming anxiety that kept him down on the floor of the van. Do you think that you'll ever be able to, but you got to ask yourself how long time is running out. Have we ever had the time, the opportunity?

I think this was the greatest opportunity to talk to Markham. I was kind of thinking that you were going to maybe reach your head out and say something. I was trying to figure out why you didn't. It was a difficult time in the case, a point where Thomas and I were still gathering information and interviewing, and the southern authorities seemed to be waiting for us to give them more reasons to budge. There was an FBI agent by the name of Bill Dukes who questioned them, he's deceased. There was an FBI agent by the name of Curtis Perriman,

he's deceased. Jim Ingram, a man who had a long history with Mississippi law enforcement and the FBI, was brought out of retirement by Dunn-Lampton to help find aging witnesses for the Dean Moore case. And he wasn't having much luck. There's an FBI agent, Lenny. He is in an Alzheimer's home in California. He doesn't even know who he is.

There's two highway patrol investigators. They were in on the interviews. They are dead. So that's exactly where we are. Not a great place to be if we hope to build a case against Edwards and Seal. A fact not lost on Lampton. I've just come to the realization that whatever we're going to do, it needs to be done quickly.

If this thing drags out much longer, it will be moot, and it gets less and less prosecutable every day. Yeah, I totally agree. Okay, so that's where we are. Yeah. In the intervening months of collecting and working through the files, audio clips, photos, and other state and federal records, I came upon many names of people connected to the investigation.

Klansmen who had participated in the crime or had knowledge of it, FBI and MHSP agents who had investigated the case, divers who had recovered the remains of Dean Moore in October of 1964, along with the jeep motor and other heavy weights they were attached to, witnesses, informants, Buzz, and quite a lot of bullshit. A flurry of excitement and action surrounded my finding of an original document at a Mississippi University archive that contained the confession by Charles Edwards on the day of his arrest in November 1964.

The document, strangely an original, had been sitting untouched for so long that the paperclip had rusted and fused into the sheets. It was an affidavit signed in blue pen by an arresting officer named Gwynne Cole of the Mississippi Highway Safety Patrol, and I discover Gwyn Cole of the Mississippi Highway Safety Patrol, and I'd discover Gwyn Cole was still alive. If Cole could remember Edward's confession, he'd be an excellent witness for any grand jury proceeding. Lampton agreed, and on another trip south, he, Thomas,

two officers from MHSP, and I drove to Gwynn Cole's house to meet with him, all of us packed into a tiny car. Is this thing stolen? No, kiddo. The MHSP officer in the passenger seat who does most of the talking is named Alan Applewhite. The second officer, the driver, is named Dewey Weems. Quiet and wary of me and my camera, Weems was just beginning his career in the early 60s and was involved with the Dean Moore case. The first occasion was when Charles Moore was still alive. Weems was tasked by Governor Paul Johnson to investigate and ultimately quell the student protest

at Alcorn College on April 20th and 21st, 1964. Weems actually took the photos I have of the protest that show the Alcorn students standing on bleachers of the football field with their backs turned defiantly to the camera. I'd like to know more about that situation because, essentially, Charles Moore became available for the Klan to pick up in Meadville because he was suspended from Alcorn shortly after Weems took the pictures. But Weems, who has since died, wouldn't agree to a formal interview.

Weems, along with Gwynne Cole, who has since died, wouldn't agree to a formal interview. Weems, along with Gwyn Cole, arrested Charles Marcus Edwards. We've just pulled up outside Gwyn Cole's house. We can get out. We don't need to get out. We're just on a ride, Captain. I'm not just sick to be alive. I'm not going to ambush somebody. I mean, I've done it enough. Lampton thinks Cole will talk more openly without my

physical presence in the room, so on the spot, I agree to remain outside, while Thomas goes in with the others to record the conversation. Lampton takes a color copy of the affidavit I found with Gwyn Cole's signature. Hey, how you doing? Thomas Moore. How you doing? I don't remember you. No. This is Thomas Moore.

This is Charles Edward Moore's brother. Come on around. Sit down. Just tell us what happened so he can hear that from you. Just with the arrest and why he signed the affidavit. Just tell us what you know about it. We went down there in Medford, Justice of the Peace. I think we woke him up, if I'm not badly mistaken, and he signed that warrant for us to arrest him. In the early morning hours of November 6, 1964, a justice of the peace in Meadville issued arrest warrants for James Ford Seal and Charles Marcus Edwards, charging them

with the murder of Henry Dee and Charles Moore. So y'all, you got the arrest warrant. Yeah. What happened after that? We picked him up. And who was we? Do you remember who was there? Me and Bill Dukes, the FBI, and the rest of them, I don't remember who was there.

I'll tell you the truth. I'm telling the truth. I don't know. Not a stellar start, but Gwynn Cole's in poor health and his memory is filled with many investigations. In fact, Cole was one of the lead investigators on the Mississippi burning case. According to Cole's signed affidavit, Charles Marcus Edwards was arrested at 5.25 a.m., November 6, 1964, at his new residence in Bunkley. Edwards moved from his previous home in the Kirby community the day after Dean Moore went missing. Gwyn Cole knocked at the front door and Edwards answered, leaving the screen door locked.

Cole identified himself and the other officers and told Edwards he wanted to talk with him. Edwards asked Cole if he had a warrant, and Cole replied that he did, a warrant charging him with murder. Edwards was informed of his rights and the officers left with him in custody at 5.29 a.m. en route to Jackson, Mississippi. I rode in the back seat of a car of FBI agents,

me and Bill Dukes, and we had Edwards in the back seat with us. Did he say anything going to Jackson? Not a word. Initially, Edwards denied having any knowledge of the disappearance of Henry D. and Charles Moore. Quote, Edwards was visibly nervous and stated several times during the course of the interview that his main concern was for his family, particularly his wife and children.

At 9.07 a.m., after nearly two hours of questioning, Edwards changed his story. He claimed that he'd been forced to move from his old neighborhood several months before because his wife was afraid of who she referred to as Negroes who parked in front of their home at night. Edwards stated that Dee was one of these men and that his wife had complained that she had seen Dee on one occasion, peeping at her. It is true that Dee lived near Edwards in the Kirby community, but it would be shown later that the peeping story was Edwards' attempt to misdirect the officers. Edwards then stated that it was because of this that he had gone with James Ford Seal and others to pick up Henry Dee in Meadville. He didn't know the identity of the other Negro with Dee at the time, he said. Edwards stated that their intention was to whip Dee and Moore, which they did in the nearby woods.

Edwards stated that he did not know what happened to them after that, but the two were still alive when he left. He declined to identify the others who were present. Edwards advised he had nothing to do with any murders, stated he would not testify, and would not give a signed statement. But even without a signed statement, Edwards had just confessed to officers that he'd been involved with kidnapping and assaulting Dean Moore. But did Cole remember it? That's all I know about it. Were you present with the interview? When I come out, Bill told me that the boy had made a statement.

Okay. The boy had made a statement. I said, yeah, what'd he tell you? He told me to him in the old field. Picked him up on the highway. Took him up there in the woods and whipped him. That's what he said Edwards told him. That's what he said Edwards told him. You weren't present during the interview. No.

This was going to be a problem. While Gwyn Cole had taken part in the arrest of Edwards and accompanied him to Jackson, he had not, according to his recollection, heard the confession from Charles Edwards directly. Let me ask you this. Had you signed the affidavit? Yeah. Why did you sign it? Bill just shoved it in front of me and said sign it. I just want to know, is that your signature?

That's my signature, yes sir. That is my signature. Had you ever talked to anyone that told you they knew who killed Moore and Deeds? Did you ever talk to anyone that told you, I know what happened? No. Did you know gilbert ernest gilbert he was the fbi informant did you know him at all no had you ever been told

by the fbi where they got that information no who else other than dues might have been in that meeting, in that interrogation? The FBI agent, but I can't call his name. He was from Texas. Okay. He was with us. This would have been FBI agent Curtis Perryman, but both Dukes and Perryman were dead. It's clear that Gwynn Cole isn't going to be our star witness after all. Why wasn't Cole in the room with Edwards and the two FBI agents when Edwards gave his confession is one question I might have asked. Thomas is nearly speechless.

Well, well, he's claiming that he wasn't there but he stood as his signature. Oh man. Well you see I can't go to court and put Gwen Cole on the stand and ask him what happened. I mean it's over. Once he says, I never heard the statement, it's over. Gwynne Cole didn't witness Edward's confession,

and that makes me wonder what District Attorney Lennox Foreman knew at the time, because Cole was one of the main people who was supposed to have told Foreman the information about the case. Foreman didn't move forward on anything, despite what appears on paper, at least, to be ample evidence. The FBI sometimes did not share information with local authorities for fear they were in the Klan. Now you're telling me that this document that I have, the 1,200 pages, that dead wasn't given to Leonard Fowler? Absolutely.

With so many people involved dead, it's impossible to know for sure what happened. They had the information to prosecute, but they didn't because they would have lost their informants. That's right. I mean, the state didn't... But Alan Applewhite offers what sounds like at least an arguable theory for why the case never went forward in 1964. The state didn't have access to the witness. The feds had the key, but they couldn't use the key because they would have lost their informant. So the informant was more important than my brother and Henry Lee.

That's right. Why? Why? Why? Because they were looking at the big picture. Once Dee and Moore were discovered, the FBI began an investigation into their case. Then Klansman Ernest Gilbert, the man FBI called JN30, came forward with information about the murders. The FBI saw this as an opportunity to use the DeMoore case as a vehicle to develop more informants for other cases. So the FBI didn't want to give Gilbert up,

nor did they want his fellow Klansmen to find out he was informing and kill him. And when it came to sharing information about cases with local authorities like Gwynne Cole or even Lennox Foreman, the FBI may not have been as forthcoming as they needed to be. All combined to keep the Dean Moore case from moving forward. Nice to meet you, sir. Yes, sir. Nice to meet you.

We say goodbye to the two Mississippi Highway patrolmen and try to figure out our next moves. I'm going. Bye, Al. Thank you. So do we still have reason for hope done, you think, in this case? Always reason, okay? Always reason to hope. Are you sure you parked over here? Always reason to hope. Whether renting, considering buying a home, or renewing a mortgage, many Canadians are finding it hard to focus with housing costs on their minds.

For free tools and resources to help you manage your home finances and clear your head, visit Canada.ca slash ItPaysToKnow. A message from the Government of Canada. Turn off hesitation. Turn off doubt. Turn off fears. The YMCA helps you turn off whatever's holding you back, so you can let your potential shine.

Through our wide range of programs and services, you can turn on confidence, turn on connections, turn on possibilities. Visit our website to see what you can achieve at the YMCA. This will be the day. While working this case, we had to look for ways to conjure a lot of hope. And Thomas often tried to do this by bringing the Dean Moore story to the local community. Public opinion hurts.

You know, it's okay if you isolate yourself. However, if the community isolate themselves from these two individuals, then it's going to hurt. On one such occasion, we visited the Roxy Baptist Church, the very church whose name was shouted out by either Dee or Moore during their torture as a possible hiding place for guns. The Reverend Clyde Briggs' old congregation.

Thomas wanted some local help for something he had in mind for James Ford Seal. Well, David, this is one of the most important things that we're about to do. It's a big day. They're going to start saying pretty soon. A portrait of the late Reverend Clyde Briggs hangs up high, centered behind the pulpit. Praise the Lord. Praise the Lord. Amen.

Praise the Lord, everyone. Praise the Lord. The church was full of its regular attendees dressed in their Sunday best, along with a few who Thomas had invited and some press from Jackson and Natchez. After some rousing gospel, Thomas stood at the front. Beside him, a sign on a pole that we'd made in Jackson. There, written in black and red text on white plastic, Charles Eddie Moore and Henry Hezekiah Dee, rest in peace and justice, with the word

justice underlined in red. First of all, it's an honor for me to be here. My name is Thomas Moore, the son of Mazer Moore from Franklin County, Meadville, Mississippi. My brother was Charles Eddie Moore. There's a terrible thing happened 41 years ago. Do I have a right to be here? I have a right to be here. Because I am going to hold Franklin County,

the state of Mississippi, accountable for the death of Charles Edelmore and Henry D. I cannot fight this battle by myself. So I need you to demand from your local authorities, justice, because Franklin County will never get over this until this shout is removed. If they can do it in Neshoba County, you can do it here. This is the time. This is our time. This is the time.

This is our time. This is not time for violence. Now, you want to ask me what I thought about doing? We don't want to talk about that in church. I still think about what I could have done. But I want to sit in the courthouse and I want to watch them walk through. If you read the Klan ledger two days ago, they had artists talking about is the Ku Klux Klan really dead?

They are trying to come back and we need to stay on top of this. And I don't have no fear. I have no fear. The day that I walk through the valley of the shadow of death. I have no fear. What is the difference when they fighting terrorists and we got two right here in Franklin County? James Ford Seale, Charles Marcus Edwards. I am leaving here in just a few minutes and I am going to place this sign, not only on personal property, but on public ground. Because I want everybody that passed by to know this guy lives here.

We're watching you. And it's just a matter of time. If anybody wants to go with me, let's go. I'm going out of here. Thomas walks out the front door of the church, and several men and a few women follow. What do you think? Good. People coming, wasn't it?

Was I persuasive in there? He was. The atmosphere in the church was electric. The group makes their way to Highway 33 at the BP station. Then, with Thomas carrying the sign, another carrying a ladder, and another a large, old-fashioned five-pound hammer, the group walks along the gravel shoulder

toward the place where James Seal lives. 55 miles an hour. I'm not going over in front of his house. He ain't crazy enough to do nothing, you know. We know that. He's a coward, dude. What about right here? The men hammer the sign at the top of the driveway, well within sight of Seal's RV, and obvious to any passerby. How is this? That's pretty good. Heavenly Father, we come at this moment to give you all the praise... Then the men stand in a circle next to the sign

and stack their hands in the center, like spokes in a wheel. Lord, right this wrong, Heavenly Father. Amen. Okay, let's go. Thomas would erect other signs around Franklin County to memorialize Charles and Henry. The sign at Seal's house would be ripped down within the hour, but the message from the local community to Seal was clear.

With Gwyn Cole unable to give us an eyewitness account of Edward's confession, Thomas and I decided to focus on Seal's arrest. According to my ever-growing stack of documents, Seal may have inadvertently given a partial confession himself. The names on the FBI report detailing Seal's arrest were MHSP agents Nat Trout, deceased, and Ford O'Neill, also deceased, FBI Special Agent Leonard Wolfe, who I'd heard had Alzheimer's and didn't even know who he was, and FBI agent Edward Putz.

Mississippi officials had told me that Putts was either senile or dead. Here's District Attorney Ronnie Harper explaining the situation. We know that Putts is not available. We know that these guys are either deceased or have no ability to recall what happened. But after a quick brush through an online phone book, I found an Edward Putz living in Miami and gave him a call. Hello. Can I speak to Ed Putz, please?

This is he. Oh, hi, Mr. Putz. My name's David, and I'm working on a story about a killing case that you may have worked on down in Mississippi down in 1964. Right. And I think you know the case. It's the Dee Moore case. And I just wanted to ask you a couple of questions about it because I think you can really help shed some light on that case. Right.

Do you remember the case? Sure. You mean the two guys that they tied to a tree and whipped and then threw in the Mississippi? That's it. Right. That's it. Far from being senile or dead at age 88, I found Special Agent Putts to be sharp and clear, and he didn't suffer fools. Most importantly, after 40 years, he still remembered everything. Now, I've been reading some documents here, and it says that you were involved in the arrest of James Ford Seal.

That's right. Now, do you remember taking Mr. Seal to Jackson? Right. And do you remember him admitting on the way there? Well, it's a partial admission. He said he did, but we'd never prove it. Right. Something like that.

Did you see my FT-302? There is an FT-302 here, and I just wanted to get your version of the story. It's sort of... Whatever's in the FT-302 is what he said. Actually, I'll just read it to you here, if you don't mind. It's a little paragraph here. I guess Special Agent Wolf was someone that was with you. And he said...

Yeah, Lenny Wolf out of Chicago. He's dead. Oh, he's dead? Oh, that's unfortunate. Yeah. He says, We know that on Saturday afternoon, May 2nd, 1964, you picked up in your car Henry D. and Charles Moore, two Negro boys from Roxy,

you and Charles Edwards and others, took them to some remote place and beat them to death. You then transported and disposed of their bodies And then James Seal says, Yes, but I'm not going to admit it. You're going to have to prove it. And you remember that conversation? Yes, I do. Wow. How did you get him to say that, though?

How? Yeah. I don't know. You know, I mean, maybe he was hard to say. Hard to say. I mean, we didn't beat him or anything like that, you know. Right, right, because there was that, wasn't there, there was that allegation, wasn't there, that Ford O'Neill had beaten him, and what do you know about that? No, no, no. County and swore an affidavit that MHSP officer Ford O'Neill did willfully, unlawfully, and

feloniously commit an assault and battery on him during Seal's November 1964 arrest. Nothing came of the charges, but District Attorney Lennox Foreman later stated that he believed the story of the beating that Seal put out in the community would have a detrimental effect on the case and used it as one of the reasons he wouldn't go forward with a grand jury. You can never beat a guy because you, if you beat a guy, he may tell you what you want to hear and then you'd never know whether it's the truth or not. Well, I thank you very much for talking to me today, sir.

I hope we can talk again. And I may give you a call next week and just check up. All right. Thanks very much, sir. Bye hope we can talk again and I may give you a call next week and just check up. Alright. Thanks very much sir. Bye bye. In another conversation Ed Putts let me know that he didn't want to sit down for a filmed interview but he was willing to testify

if it ever came to that. Thomas called Lampton with the news about Putts. Spell that last name for me. P and Paul U P Z and Zulu with the news about putts. them head on their list to go in. Apparently beating us to the punch, which is fine. And we'll just have to see in the context of everything how that fits in. That still may not give us what we need to be in federal court. I remember the frustration building in Thomas and I around this time. We felt that if we stopped pressing even for a moment,

that the whole push for justice would come to a crashing halt. Thomas felt that through the course of filming over 15 months, we were doing things that officials should be doing by now. Looking through the documents, finding witnesses, looking for new evidence. It was true that we'd had many promises, but nothing seemed to move forward unless we were on the ground and in people's faces. Over the last year, you know, I'm frustrated that I bring them information and they say, you know, are you beating me to the point?

Well, yeah, we are beating him to the point because we're punching. My question is, are they punching? Thomas decided that it was time to confront his demons once and for all. He would attempt to speak to Charles Edwards face-to-face one more time.

Only by meeting his fear head-on, Thomas felt, would he be able to find some peace. Also, being the victim's brother, Thomas's gut instincts had always told him that only he could get the conspirators in his brother's case to start talking. But how to arrange a face-to-face meet and where. We'd spent a lot of time, especially in the beginning of our investigation, speaking to people about Edwards and Seal. A couple of guys, one guy's in Charles Marcus Edwards. You ever heard of that guy before? Yeah. You know that guy? Well, he lives in Bunkley from where I'm from. That's my daddy's uncle. Oh, really? Yeah. I see him a lot, man. We hunt together, deer hunting and all that, but you know we don't ever talk about nothing like this. What's he like? What's he like? Yeah. He's a church-going man. He helps you do anything you ask him to do.

Grows a garden every year. Just a country fella, you know. Yeah. Real good guy. Is he a good hunter? Oh, yeah. He can kill some deer. So, aside from being a decent hunter, Edwards was also a good gardener and a church-going man. Have you heard of this case, though? I know that one of the men that supposedly had something to do with it is a deacon in our church. He's the deacon in your church? Would this be Mr. Edwards? This is Charles Marcus Edwards, right? Mm-hmm. Okay, I guess he's still alive then, obviously. He's the deacon in your church.

Yeah, he's still very much alive. What church is that? Obviously it's a Baptist church? Mm-hmm, Baptist, Bunkley. Bunkley Baptist. That's about 15 miles from here. And is he there every Sunday? Every Sunday. He has been for years. Years and years and years.

The deacon of a church. The Bunkley Baptist Church. This could be an opportunity. Well, let me ask you this. If, believe me, my mind ain't made up, I'm just torn in between this thing. Thomas and I had discussed a plan for confronting Edwards, but first he wanted to run it by Dunlapton. If I decided to go down to the church and see him, he may get mad and walk away from me.

But with that, in fact, when you find out that I went down and talked to him, they're going to have any interference with what you're going to do. As Deacon, Edwards would likely be one of the first to arrive on any given Sunday. Thomas wanted to try for a showdown here. If Edwards was a religious man, perhaps the church would make him think twice about telling a lie. let's go knock this shit out. Because, you know, I was concerned that, and matter of fact, he said, he said, if you decide to go, I'm still gonna do what I gotta do. And that's what kind of cleared my mind.

You see what I'm saying? So fuck it, let's get a goddamn batting practice and Grand Slam this Sunday. I mean, like you said, you know, I would hate for you to leave here and we didn't try. Now, we go down there and he ain't there, we get the fuck on out of the bunker. But if he there, here I am, man. Run, but you can't fucking hide.

Tell me what you're gonna do and tell me what you're going to do and tell me what you're doing. Well, I'm going to prepare an envelope to pass to Charles Marcus Edwards today if he comes to church. What I have here is a few pages from the Federal Bureau of Investigation report. In this report it has the name of Charles Marcus Edwards, James Seal, and alleging that they picked up Charles Moore and Henry D. I've carefully blackened out some information that I didn't want him to know about right at this time. I want to ask him, Charles Edwards, why did he have a bad case of conscience? Why is his name in this document? I'm sure he

hasn't seen this. My intent is to give this to Charles Marcus Edwards, that he may have some bedtime reading stuff, just in case he'd have nothing else to do. Thomas writes a name on the cover of the envelope in black marker. This is Charles Marker's Edwards. And then seals it. Happy dream. All right.

Test one, two, three, four, five, six. We should be getting pretty close. The church is a simple red brick building with a whitewashed wooden steeple. A sign with letters falling off out front reads, Unky Baptit Hirch, Bunkley Baptist Church. with letters falling off out front reads, On a pole next to the sign hangs a small church bell. Anybody who rang it would soon find out that there were dozens of red wasps building a nest inside. I think the best thing is to just keep going back and forth

in the front of this thing, because then we're on the road and going. Okay. After more than an hour of luckless drive-bys, around 9.35 a.m., Thomas was ready to throw in the towel. And then... There's a car. Is that his car?

Yep, that's his car. Want to do it now? Yeah. You ready? Go. Charles Marcus Edwards had parked his Chevy Impala in front of the church and was following his wife toward the front door. I pull the van into the lane, grab a small camera, and Thomas and I get out.

In my hurry, I leave the van running, and you can hear it in the background. Mr. Edwards? How you doing, sir? All right. I have something for you, sir. What is it? It's something that I think you want to read. No, no, no, sir.

You take it on back. No, sir, I want you to read it because... Well, I want to ask you why your name in no FBI report, sir. I'm not on no FBI report. That's what you have in your hand, sir. I want you to read it because... Well, I want to ask you why your name in no FBI report, sir. I'm not on no FBI report. That's what you have in your hand, sir. No. I'm not just...all I want to do is talk with you. What's your name, sir?

My name is Moore. Thomas James Moore. I'm going to tell you, sir. I did not kill you, sir. I didn't have anything to do with it. Well, sir, all I want to ask you, why is your name and James Ford's seal in the document? Well, the FBI, they dropped all his case, and he's nowhere. Well, I know from the FBI file, sir, that he was nowhere. They dropped the case because there wasn't any evidence, and I didn't have anything. I've never been on that Mississippi River in my life. Sir, did you have anything to do with picking those boys up, though, sir?

The report said that you and Jane Forseer picked them up. It did not say you killed them. Edwards pauses, looks at his feet, then starts to move toward the church, pulling his wife along with him. His silence speaks. Did you have anything to do with that, sir, picking those boys up? I haven't got anything. Y'all get off this church.

I don't want to quit stirring up the whole thing on the church. Edwards finally reaches the door of the church, clearly preoccupied, starts fumbling with his keys to open the white doors. Mr. Edwards, why did you move the day after those boys were killed? Finally, Edwards gets the door open, and he and his wife are gone. Time to go. Yeah. How do you feel now?

I feel great. I feel great. I feel great. I mean, I did what I had to do and... Yeah. Stegall was a success. Hot goddamn. 42 years, I took him in a seat at Sunfish to his face. He showed the nerves. He's talking about he'd never been on that Mississippi River. And nobody say he'd been on the Mississippi River. I asked him the question. I can't think of anything else I need to ask him.

Right? He made me ask him questions. All I want to know is why your name is in the FBI document. If he was nervous last year, he's fucked up now. Get him on the stand, he will not lie. That guy will say he picked them up on the stand. You've got to call Dunlap and then tell him. Because the way he didn't answer when I asked if he picked those boys up,

he will talk, he will speak the truth in the court. If he's forced to, he will. You have been listening to Episode 4, Bunkley. Visit cbc.ca.sks to see video of the encounters with Charles Marcus Edwards and James Ford Seal. And subscribe to SKS on your favorite podcast app. Someone Knows Something is hosted, written, and produced by David Ridgen. The series is also produced by

Chris Oak, Steph Kampf, Amal Delich, Eunice Kim, and executive producer Arif Noorani, and mixed by Cecil Fernandez. Our theme song is Terrorized by Willie King. Now you talk about terror I think you talk about terror

People have been terrorized All my days All my days So what do you think? Do you think that was a... I think that's a slam dunk home run star traveler rocket ship. All right. Home run, star traveler, rocket ship. Wow.